


Land of the Living

by sally (team_fen)



Category: Sinbad (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 12:49:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/team_fen/pseuds/sally
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-series.  There's something wrong with Alehna.  Gunnar keeps his crew safe and puts off making decisions, whether he's sure of them or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Land of the Living

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitch/gifts).



 

 

Gunnar is still on watch when Anwar stumbles up to swab the deck.   It’s a task Anwar performs inconsistently at best.  Sometimes he is sloppy, head in the clouds.  Other times he gets stuck, scrubbing one area to the point of obsession until someone gently points him in another direction.

 

Today it is the latter.  Gunnar would ask him what’s troubling him, but he really doesn’t want Anwar to get the impression that he is someone with whom he can share his thoughts and feelings.  They’ve performed their civil head nods of acknowledgement already.  Talking would ruin the quiet peace of the morning. 

 

Wind conditions are fair.  Sun is low, but coming up.  It will be a hot one today.

 

Anwar pushes the mop back and forth across the same two square feet for ten minutes before Gunnar cracks.

 

“I think you missed a spot,” he says. 

 

“Wha…?” Anwar flails, eyes wide.  He looks down at what his hands are doing.  “Oh.  Yes, right.  Well.”  He flushes, but Gunnar can see him focusing on his task.

 

They’re interrupted by Rina and Tiger, helping Cook carry up supplies for breakfast.  The Providence set down off the coast of a small island yesterday, so they have rice, bread, cheese and fruit from the locals, a little salted meat as well.  It should last until they arrive in Basra.

 

Everyone’s pretty quiet - in fact, this must be the most privacy-conscious crew Gunnar has ever sailed with - but with Cook banging pans, they still make enough noise to drive Taryn and Alehna up just as Anwar retires the mop.  Sinbad, on the late watch last night, sleeps in until he can smell the food.  He arrives on deck, stretching like a pleased cat.  Gunnar nods an all clear at him and Sinbad grins back.  Whatever Anwar said to him yesterday seems to have eased his mind over losing his brother a second time.  Sinbad collects his breakfast and exchanges pleasantries with Cook.  Good.

 

Then, because he has a death-wish (an unfortunate expression, to be sure) Sinbad tries to steal off Tiger’s plate.  It’s almost a smooth move, but extremely poorly executed, given that it’s Tiger.  Rina catches him at it and rolls her eyes.  Tiger, considerably more violent, at least in this instance, has her knife to Sinbad’s groin.  Gunnar winces.

 

There’s a short stand-off.  Tiger ends it, skewering her knife into the largest piece of meat on Sinbad’s plate.  Sinbad pops his hard-earned olive into his mouth.  They each chew at the other like they’ve won something.

 

What Gunnar meant about his crew being private, he’d like to amend, was that they’re not inclined to pry.  Freely airing their personal matters, however, is an entirely different kettle of fish, one which Sinbad, especially, is not shy about in the least.

 

An uncomfortable silence later, talk moves to what they will do in Basra.  Sinbad would like to track down Tazeem so he can go see his mother, but it soon becomes clear, after a few questions about shopping, “shopping”, and how nice it will be to see Nala again (“Who’s Nala?” Tiger wonders), that this is a fishing expedition to see what Taryn is up to.  Anwar squirms as Rina’s sharp commentary grows barbs, but Gunnar does not trust Taryn either - the only reason Gunnar encouraged Sinbad to help her is so he wouldn’t feel guilty about it later.  Sinbad already carries far too much guilt.  Gunnar is just glad not to be the one attacking a woman in front of her daughter.  Rina clearly has no such compunction. 

 

Taryn, for her part, takes the inquisition calmly enough.

 

She wants to “live quietly.  Find a place for us to settle down.”

 

“In Basra?  Are you sure that’s even possible after you’ve ruthlessly murdered its last two Emirs?” Rina asks, with ghoulishly.

 

Aghast, everyone turns to see how Alehna will take the news. 

 

Alehna’s watching Taryn, who’s glaring at Rina, and doesn’t react immediately.  She seems to feel everyone’s eyes on her, eventually.

 

“Mother?” Alehna asks, in her clear, polished voice.

 

Taryn looks devastated as she replies, smoothing her hands fretfully over Alehna’s face.   “Alehna, sweetheart.  I swore I would get you back, but some of the things I did…,” she trails off.  “I did what I had to do.  We can talk about it later, as much as you like.  I promise.”  Is this truly the first she’s considered how her actions would appear from her daughter’s point of view?

 

Alehna seems to accept her mother’s words easily, though.  Perhaps it is too outlandish an accusation to properly sink in at once, that one’s mother has killed not one, but two divinely appointed rulers.

 

“I should like to see the House of Wisdom,” Alehna says, changing the subject and graciously allowing Taryn to clasp her hand.  “I’ve grown quite fond of libraries.”

 

Rina, apparently judging the girl for being too well adjusted, snips, “Well you can’t.  They don’t let girls in.”

 

Alehna’s face passes through a complicated series of expressions before settling on completely blank.  Cook is watching her, unsettled but trying to hide it.  A chill creeps down Gunnar’s spine.  Just what they needed today.  May the gods preserve them from women in a snit.

 

“Rina!” Anwar scolds, shocked and dismayed.  “I’m sure we can figure something out,” he assures Alehna. 

 

Alehna, for her part, tilts her head at him with polite curiosity. 

 

“Oh really?” Rina says snidely, annoyed at Anwar for not taking her side.  “Are _you_ even allowed in there, Anwar, now that you’re no longer a student?”

 

Anwar, wounded, replies, “That was entirely uncalled for; I still have privileges at the _library_.  And for your information, I’ll have you know that I’ve helped sneak _many_ people into the stacks.”

 

Now Rina’s intrigued.  “Many?  How many?”  Gunnar lets out a sigh of relief as Anwar continues to unwittingly diffuse the weird tension onboard.

 

“I don’t know.  Many.  I never counted - I didn’t think I would someday be expected to give an exact accounting.”

 

“Girls?” Sinbad asks, exchanging sly glances with Tiger.

 

“Yes, Sinbad,” Anwar answers huffily.  “Some of them were girls, if you must know, so you see, Alehna, it’s not impossible that--  Oh I see what you -- no, not like that!  Not on the _books,_ who in their right mind would do such a thing?”

 

Sinbad flashes Gunnar a blindingly smug smile.  _There’s_ a story.

 

“Some of us were tutoring some of the local kids for food and board and so on,” Anwar is saying.  “The ones who couldn’t afford the professors’ fees, but still wanted their kids to have an education.  A bit under the table, but the University looked the other way since they got the odd student out of it.”

 

“You weren’t tutoring anyone, though, were you rich boy?” Rina digs.

 

“Well, I filled in for my friends whenever they were sick or busy, but I didn’t have any regulars of my own, no,” Anwar begrudges.

 

“Shame,” Rina says, airily.  “You were nearly interesting for a moment, with your illegal underground teaching ring.”

 

They continue to bicker as they clean up and Gunnar tunes them out.  Taryn and Alehna disappear below deck to talk.

 

The sun’s up.  It will definitely be a scorcher.  Gunnar takes the helm and corrects their course for Basra.  The sooner they can be rid of their passengers, the better.

* * *

 

 

They make good time, arriving three days later, an hour or so before sunset.

 

Gunnar is glad to see many ships in port and many people on the wharf.  It is a good sign that people are unafraid to move back to Basra after the… upheavals.

 

They dock, Sinbad clambering overboard to secure the line.  “Home again,” he says, bittersweet.

 

Gunnar finds that the more you travel, the less you can say that the place you grew up is your home.  It sounds as though Sinbad is beginning to realize this as well.

 

Or perhaps its just the strange energy he’s picking up from the crowd.  They’re bustling, certainly, which is good, but they also seem… hurried.  They brush past the Providence with little curiosity, and glance often at the sun hovering over the horizon.  They’re expecting something to happen.

 

He can feel it pass to the crew, everyone on high alert, shifting into fighting stances.  Even Anwar can sense something wrong, looking around worriedly.

 

"It doesn't smell right," Cook declares, turning up his nose.

 

Alehna takes in a deep breath of air and exhales happily.

 

Gunnar tries not to dwell on how unsettling he finds her, but really, is it because she was dead?  Because she's Taryn's daughter?  Because she's going through an awkward phase?  At least she hasn’t tried to kill anyone yet, which should earn her a lot of good will.  Gunnar’s standards for new people have lowered, lately.

 

He’s saved from having to think about it further by Nala’s arrival. Nala, resplendent as ever in red and gold, descends from the sea-wall and greets them warmly.  She’s always had a grace to her that makes him think “lady” over “friend”, and work to stand a little straighter.  Introductions are made - Tiger and Nala size each other up.  Nala’s eyebrows go up at Taryn and higher still when Alehna introduces herself, calmly observing that Nala is "very pretty."  Nala is taken aback a moment, but gathers herself admirably, shepherding them all back onto the Providence with the same sense of urgency they'd seen on the wharf and back down into the belly of the ship.  Nala shuts the hatch and looks instantly calmer, sagging a little in relief.

 

"What in the world was that all about?" Sinbad wonders, bemused.

 

"When this one," Nala sighs and juts her chin at Taryn, "opened a gate so the Shadows could come through, she left the way open for other things to slip through, too." 

 

"Which means...?" Sinbad asks.

 

"Which means that Basra is overrun by demons and it's no longer safe to go out at night," Nala finishes.  To Taryn, she adds: “If you have any way to ward this vessel against magic, you should do it now."

 

There's a couple of seconds before Anwar laughs, "Demons." 

 

No one laughs with him.

 

"Oh come on, demons, really?"

 

"After all you've seen, Anwar," Rina scolds.

 

"Just because we’ve seen a siren, a roc and a Goddess, it doesn’t automatically mean every other mythical creature suddenly exists.   But fine – describe your demons," Anwar gestures.  "What do they look like?"

 

Nala explains that they certainly not _her_ demons.  They can look like anything.  Some are very large, and some are very small and beautiful.  Some are human and some are animal.  Not everyone can actually see them - though whether this is because some people lack the faculty for seeing them, or because they simply don't wish to be seen is uncertain.  And some demons are the monsters that come under the cover of night and tear you apart, trailing your entrails behind them as they run through the city, shrieking with terrible, cackling laughter. 

 

They give that the consideration it's due.

 

"That last part sounds like the Beast from Malta," Tiger offers.

 

Nala looks up hopefully.  "You've come across one before?  How did you defeat it?"

 

"Well," Anwar says apologetically.  "Phillip was human during the day and didn't remember being the monster at night.  We just informed him about his, er, nocturnal activities and suggested he might build himself a cage."

 

"There was some Holy Man trying to use it to kill Gunnar," Rina adds.

 

"Scent-tracking," Tiger agrees.

 

But Gunnar has been watching Taryn.  “You know something,” he accuses.

 

She looks up at him, wonderingly.  “I didn’t think it had worked,” she says.  Instantly, all eyes are upon her.

 

“You mean to say you set a host of demons upon us on _purpose_?” Nala demands, outraged.  She steps forward into Taryn’s space.  Gunnar steps after her, whether to hold her back or to help her, he hasn’t decided yet.

 

“It was only ever a possibility,” Taryn trails off.

 

“Perhaps you had better explain yourself,” Sinbad says thinly, arms crossed.

 

“Of course,” she pauses to collect her thoughts.  “You’ve heard of the theory, the rumour that all magic comes from the demons?”

 

Anwar nods thoughtfully.

 

“When the former Emir Haroun banished them, it was like he… muffled it, as though he threw a giant blanket over the city.  Strong witches and magicians could still access it, but the lesser ones all but lost their power.  My teacher had her magic stripped from her when she tried to reverse it – it was her price for teaching me, that I should carry on her work.”

 

“And now your debt is paid,” Alehna says quietly.  Taryn smiles at her gratefully.

 

“Very nice story,” Nala says.  “Let’s get back to the part where the demons were banished.  Can we do that again?   How do you banish a demon?  And can someone please tell me why we’re trusting anything she has to say?”

 

“I’m afraid that I don’t know how to banish a demon,” Taryn says regretfully, “but as for trusting me, you can see that I repay my debts.  I no longer owe my teacher anything, and Sinbad saved my daughter from the Land of the Dead.  There is no way to repay him for what he has done or for the pain I have caused him along the way.  I do not want for much – my daughter is safe, and my only wish is that she stays so.  I will help Sinbad in whatever way I can, and by extension his friends – and I suspect most of Basra as well.  Does that satisfy you?”

 

Only time will tell, Gunnar supposes, but she’s always been serious in her dealings with Sinbad and he can’t recall her ever lying to them. 

 

Sure, she’s always been very honest about her intentions to hunt them down and kill them.

 

A quick accounting of the room has everyone at suspicious but not hostile.  Sinbad looks a little bit uncomfortable, which Gunnar puts down to his new servant professing her eternal loyalty like he’s some kind of Lord.

 

“I can see about warding, now, if you’d like,” Taryn offers wryly. 

 

Nala goes with her, ready to ask more questions by the looks of it.  Alehna tries to follow but Taryn tells her to stay.  She does so, reluctantly.  Sinbad exchanges a look with Gunnar and goes after them. 

 

“Sun’s down,” Cook remarks.

 

They all quiet down.  Gunnar helps Tiger and Rina overturn the crates that sometimes serve as their card table and stools.  Cook pushes Alehna down onto one.

 

“Sit, little one.  You do not look so well.”

 

Very much an understatement.  Alehna’s trembling and starting to sweat, fingers clenched into her dress.  Anwar rushes over to press his hand to her forehead.

 

“She’s freezing,” he says, alarmed.  He reaches take her pulse and she swats at his arm.

 

“Stop!” she screams.  “Stop it!  Mother!” 

 

Alehna skitters backwards over her crate, knocking it over.  She bends over, wracked with sobs, her hands dragging down the wall.

 

“I didn’t do anything,” Anwar steps back, bewildered.

 

They can hear Taryn calling for her as she gets closer and closer, Nala and Sinbad in her wake.

 

“I’m here, Alehna,” Taryn falls to her knees.  “What happened?”

 

“Nothing happened,” Rina replies.  “She’s just throwing a fit.”

 

“I could swear she was just fine until a minute ago,” Anwar says.

 

Taryn’s looks at him sharply, her face white.  “The symbols I drew,” she tells Nala.  “Erase them.”

 

“The symbols keeping us safe from the demons outside?” Nala says in disbelief.

 

“Just do it,” Taryn shouts.

 

Nala looks at Sinbad who nods.  Nala sighs and leaves.

 

Alehna recovers very shortly after, taking a few deep breaths and smiling.  Taryn stands up slowly and steps back.  From the corner of his eyes, Gunnar spies not a few hands going for their knives.

 

“Get out of my daughter,” Taryn says furiously.  “Now.”

 

In a moment he’s not proud of, Gunnar’s first, completely irrational thought is that at least he’s spent the last week scared of a demon and not a sixteen year old girl.

 

Although, now that he thinks of it, how long has the demon been riding her?

 

“You are in no position to make demands of me, witch,” it speaks in Alehna’s sweetly serene voice.

 

“We could knock it out of her,” Gunnar offers, “like with you and Tiger.”

 

Taryn rounds on him.  “You touch one hair on her head, and you won’t live to see sunrise.”

 

“If you value Alehna’s life at all, you’ll listen to her.  I’ll burn her apart until there’s nothing left if you take me from her unwillingly,” it says.  It rises again and brushes dust reflexively off Alehna’s skirt.

 

“So what do you want?” Sinbad asks.

 

“I’m so glad you asked!” it says, pleased.  It turns to Taryn, who looks as though she’s having trouble deciding whether to go to her daughter or run from the demon inside her.  Gunnar finds himself sympathizing with her again, a habit he isn’t keen on developing. 

 

“I was just admiring the strength and elegance of your spell-casting.  I would like to know the name of your teacher.”

 

“Why?  Need a remedial lesson?” Rina mutters.

 

“You are very rude,” the demon says, getting annoyed.

 

“Huda,” Taryn supplies quickly.  “My teacher’s name was Huda.”

 

“Huda?” the demon repeats blankly. 

 

And then, bizarrely, it starts laughing.

 

“Something funny?” Sinbad prompts.

 

“I’m just thinking that I am getting extremely tired of being Manāt’s entertainment.”

 

“You mean, Manāt, like Manāt, the goddess of fates and destiny?” Sinbad asks, his hands held apart as if to indicate a small statue – perhaps his grandmother had an idol.

 

“Why, should I know some other Manāt?” it replies, flippant, before it seems to regain its composure.  “One is more than enough, let me assure you.  My advice to you is to stay away from gods of every sort,” it tells Sinbad, earnestly, every inch the Alehna they have come to know.

 

“What now?” asks Nala, who has been standing quietly behind Sinbad.

 

The demon fields this.  “I imagine you all want me under guard, which is completely useless, since I’m only going to go to sleep, and tomorrow Mother will take me to—“

 

“Don’t call me that,” Taryn blanches.

 

The demon smiles, unperturbed and carries on “and tomorrow you will take me to see Huda.  I assume she still lives in Basra.”

 

Taryn nods unhappily.

 

“Are you going to kill her,” Rina wonders.

 

“No,” it answers blankly.  It really does not like Rina.

 

They hear a scream from outside, followed by some hideous snapping noises and shorter prolonged moaning.

 

As it passes Nala on the way to the cabin she’s been sharing with Taryn, the demon pats Nala on the shoulder and says kindly, “Don’t worry, they won’t come in.  They know I’m here.”  From the cabin they can hear, “Ghouls.  So dramatic.”

 

“First watch,” Gunnar calls.

 

“I will join you,” Cook says, and pulls out his worn out deck of cards.

 

 

* * *

 

They are all tired and cranky in the morning – the only one who slept well was Alehna’s passenger.  Gunnar uncharitably doubts the demon even needs sleep and only does so in order to mock the rest of them who can’t get any.

 

Taryn, the demon and Gunnar, who doesn’t trust the two of them to wander around Basra alone, go to find Huda.  Everyone else, after being told they should probably not bring so much attention to Huda’s door, wanders into the city to track down friends or go buy supplies.

 

The wharf is busy again today, as is the market, which starts at the sea-wall and carries on up a number of streets.  It takes a while, weaving their way past food stalls, penned livestock and buyers and sellers engaged in every kind of fast trade, before Taryn cuts down a small alley.  There’s a sign with a picture of an eye on a hand that says “Readings, 3 copper Fals” hanging above the red door where Taryn knocks.

 

“She’s a charlatan,” Gunnar says, halfway between a question and a statement.

 

“She understands people,” Taryn says warningly, “and she needed to eat.”

 

The door opens, answered by a heavily veiled woman with thickly lined eyes.  Small pieces of shiny metal hang off her clothing, making a shimmer of clinking whenever she moves.

 

“Taryn, dear!” Huda exclaims, and pulls her inside, kissing at her cheeks.  “You’ve done so well.  Better than I’d imagined.”

 

“You’re still—?“ Taryn says.

 

 “No dear, it hasn’t come back, but I can feel it around me now, at least.”  Taryn tries to apologize and is brushed off.  “It was a long shot anyway.  And who’s this?  You must be Alehna!  Look at all that lovely hair.  Let me take a look at you.”  She grasps Alehna by the shoulders.  “Close that door, please, young man,” she tells Gunnar.  “Land of the Dead, hm?  You’re looking very good for being recently deceased.  Nothing some breakfast won’t fix,” and ushers them past the predominantly pink fabric-laden front room with strange objects lined up on shelves and spilling out of drawers.  She leads them up the stairs into her actual living space. 

 

“Sit, sit,” she indicates, pulling most of the veiling off from around her head.  “The clients like them,” she confides to Gunnar.  “Adds a bit of mystery.”

 

Gunnar sits on a low sofa, his knees up around his ears.  He feels ridiculous and wonders if that might not be the point.  She sets out plates and food, chatting to Alehna about nothing the entire time.  Taryn finally has enough.

 

“You do realize she’s carrying a demon, don’t you?”

 

Huda pauses.  “Yes dear, of course I do.”

 

Alehna smiles smugly.

 

“And would you have told me if I didn’t know,” Taryn asks, eyes narrowed dangerously.

 

“Well that would be terribly rude,” Huda replies, astonished.  “I mean,” she allows hastily, “of course if Alehna were in danger I would do something, but she seems to be quite well.”

 

“There is a demon riding my daughter like a puppet!” Taryn says, reaching the end of her patience.

 

“Yes, dear.  I – oh, you’re making this very difficult, aren’t you?” Huda says to the demon.  “Just because you’re in the body of a teenager, doesn’t mean you have to act like one.”

 

“Just as your Master was Huda,” the demon tells Taryn, “so was I hers.”

 

“You never said—“ Taryn shakes her head.

 

“No dear,” Huda agrees.  “I couldn’t teach you anything that would make the Emir take too much notice.  Djinn were noticeable.  Couldn’t have him taking your power, too, so we mostly covered wards and amulets and a bit of harmless necromancy.”

 

Taryn blinks, astonished, a thousand questions forming in her mouth.

 

“I was pretending to be human when we met,” the demon adds.

 

“So you were,” Huda carries on.  “Now, I can’t help but think that this might be something other than a social call.  Is there anything you need, Master?”

 

“I could use a sculpture,” the demon says.

 

“Oh really?” Huda asks, amused.  “You can’t make one of your own?”

 

“I’d rather you make it for me,” it counters.  “I can pay.”

 

“Well, if you insist,” Huda says.  They reach out and clasp hands, leaning in to touch foreheads.

 

And… as far as Gunnar can tell, absolutely nothing happens. 

 

Taryn gasps, though, so it must be suitably impressive.

 

Huda sighs and smiles and they’re all hustled away again, told to return whenever they like.

 

“And you, young man,” she says to Gunnar as she pushes him out the door.  “You’re about to make some major changes.  Make sure you’re sure.”

 

Gunnar looks at her, bewildered.

 

“That’ll be three copper Fals,” she holds out her hand.

 

“Excuse me, I’m not--,” Gunnar starts to say.

 

“No, you’re absolutely right.  That wasn’t even a proper reading.  Two copper Fals.”

 

“I didn’t ask for—,” Gunnar argues.

 

Taryn cuts him off, dropping one copper coin in Huda’s palm.  “You’re a terrible scammer,” she says.

 

“I do miss you, Taryn,” Huda kisses her on the cheek and shuts her door.

 

It occurs to Gunnar to ask about the ghouls wandering the streets and how to protect themselves against them, or how to banish demons, or in fact anything useful at all.  He turns around to knock again, and is surprised to find the door is completely gone.  He’s staring at a solid wall.

 

“Her magic’s back now,” the demon explains to him.

 

“How nice for her,” Gunnar grinds his teeth.  Together they make their way back through the market to the Providence.

 

Sinbad is back – he wants to leave tomorrow to go find his mother.  Tazeem has told him she’s only a day’s ride.  Rina and Anwar went to the University to check up on Anwar’s friends and to ask them about his family, who he refuses to go see.  Nala and Tiger spent the day in the market, impressing each other with their haggling skills.  Cook is delighted that they’ve brought him spices (“More than one, even!”) and pats them on the back proudly whenever Sinbad walks by.

 

Gunnar gets unsubtly pulled aside by every single one of them during the rest of the day so they can ask what happened with Huda.

 

* * *

 

 

Sinbad leaves in the morning with Nala and Tiger, who are becoming fast friends.  Tiger is his back-up.  Nala can see demons.  Gunnar hopes they’ll be safe enough.  They leave in the back of a beat up old cart, smiling and waving.

 

Alehna and Taryn are staying, though, so Gunnar stays with them.

 

Anwar and Rina stay, too.  Anwar’s researching a solution to the demon problem – Basra’s or Alehna’s, and Rina’s got her ear to the ground to help.

 

They’ve started a map of where the attacks have happened, trying to find a pattern.

 

One day Anwar climbs aboard and tells him there’s flying carpets in the House of Wisdom.

 

“Oh,” says the demon.  “They ley-lines must be working again!”

 

Which makes Anwar clamour to know how they work.  Magnetic dyes, the demon tells him, which makes Anwar’s eyebrows climb in disbelief.  “You must be joking.”

 

As it turns out, the demon quite likes Anwar (it still has no respect for Rina, which causes some strain, occasionally).  They talk about science and history, which the demon missed when it was incorporeal in the Land of the Dead.

 

No, they still don’t know how it got there, but at least now they know that it was very anxious to leave, hitching a ride out in Alehna’s body.

 

It also fact-checks Anwar’s knowledge of the occasional demons he catches wandering the city, and Anwar can soon easily classify between Peri, Marid, Ghoul, Ifrit and Qareen, which he and the demon add to their map.

 

Rina gets jealous of the time they’re spending together so Anwar sneaks her in to the House of Wisdom to ride the carpets to make up for it.

 

They get kicked out unceremoniously by the Head Librarian, but return to the Providence laughing and exhilarated, vowing to save up enough to buy one some day.

 

The demon pouts (they wouldn’t take her along) at the missed opportunity, but Anwar cheers her up with a book of fiction by Shirzad he found in the market.

 

They make Gunnar feel old and tired.  Cook fusses at him a bit, trying to bring him out of his mood.

 

Taryn is unhappy as well, drawn and pinched as she waits for the demon to get what it wants and leave Alehna’s body.  When asked when that will be, it replies that they’ll wait for Sinbad to return.

 

Gunnar retreats grumpily to his hammock and considers what Huda told him about changes.  The thing is, he has been wondering about whether or not to leave and start a life with Lara Assuage and her son on Malta.  She would have him and he felt needed.  It felt good.

 

He doesn’t want to outstay his usefulness.

 

His next conversation with the demon starts with it saying, “You don’t like me very much do you?”

 

And Gunnar actually speaks with it about how much it disturbs him that it is really two people, and he doesn’t know which parts of it belong to which being and how difficult that makes it for him to trust anything about it. 

 

The demon tells him that Alehna is very smart and sweet and it actually quite likes her.

 

Sinbad returns the next afternoon, tired but happy. leading the mule carrying his mother like they’re land-locked versions of themselves who farm for a living.  Everything gets distinctly weirder from there.

* * *

 

It’s almost as though the demon can sense them coming.  It sits up straighter and straighter before running up on deck, too quickly for Gunnar to get in its way.

 

He scrambles up the ladder just fast enough to see Alehna’s body scramble down the ramp – the most graceless, childlike action Gunnar’s ever seen it make.

 

She rushes up the wharf to Sinbad, stopping short a few feet away.  Gunnar runs up in time to hear her ask, “What’s wrong with her?”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with her,” Sinbad retorts.

 

The demon flaps its hands at him distractedly.  “Her mind is missing,” it says.  “For how long?”

 

“Amma told me she’s been like this since before I was born, but Jamil had a memory or two of her singing and laughing.  You don’t suppose…?”

 

“I saw her,” the demon says.  “In the Land of the Dead.  I saw you, too.” 

 

“You’ve met my mother?” Sinbad asks.

 

“You were so tiny,” it says.  “You were a month premature when Zahira went into labour, you know.”

 

“You spoke with her?” Sinbad says, surprised.

 

“There was something wrong,” it carries on, mournfully.  “She was bleeding everywhere.  I couldn’t--  I followed her.”

 

“Who _are_ you?” Sinbad wonders.

 

“I couldn’t get her out, though.  They couldn’t hold you, of course, but you needed someone to walk you out.  They wouldn’t let her go and I couldn’t leave her behind.  I burned their city.  I reduced it to charred rubble and still they wouldn’t let her go.”

 

Sinbad’s mouth hangs open in shock.  “But that would make—“

 

“And so I bargained with them, trading my body for Zahira’s safe passage.  But I should have known they’d _cheat_!” Alehna’s eyes go completely white and the earth beneath their feet begins to tremble.

 

“Alehna!” Taryn yells.

 

“She’s fine, get back to the boat,” Gunnar hears.  “Go, go.”

 

He sees Nala and Tiger dragging the terrified mule away and heaving at a stunned Sinbad’s arms.

 

People are screaming in the markets.  It sounds, he muses, like how Nala described the demon infestation.

 

He reaches around Alehna’s tiny waist, picks her up and drops her into the sea.

 

The trembling stops and Alehna comes up for air, coughing and sputtering.

 

“Done?” Gunnar asks.

 

“Yes,” the demon admits.  Gunnar reaches down and pulls Alehna out of the water.  Taryn is there with a towel.

 

“You’re Sinbad’s father,” she says to the demon in her incongruously young daughter’s body.

 

“I wasn’t around for so much.  His birthdays, his first girlfriend, that time you got his brother killed.”

 

“You’re punishing me,” Taryn realizes, toweling Alehna’s hair dry.  “But you would never have even left the Land of the Dead without me.”

 

“That’s true, which is why I’ll leave Alehna’s body on a day of my choosing and go find my own.”

 

“And when will that be?”

 

“When we find Zahira’s mind.”

 

Gunnar can see Taryn’s desperation building and tries to stave it off.  She’s at her most dangerous when she’s lost hope.

 

“How do we find it?” he asks.

 

“They’ve hidden it from me, but I can tell it’s nearby.  It’ll be something you’ve had since you were a baby,” the demon tells Sinbad, who’s come back to stand with them.  Gunnar rests a hand on his shoulder in support.  Sinbad gives him a sickly half-smile in return.

 

“And what do we do with this object when we find it?” he asks.

 

You know what it is,” the demon breathes.  “Show it to me.”

 

And from his pocket, Sinbad pulls the stone from the necklace with which his grandmother cursed him.

 

He walks to his Mother and folds it into her hand.

 

They pass a minute in hopeful silence.

 

“I’ll go get a hammer,” Gunnar says.

 

* * *

 

Zahira comes to in a painful torrent of emotion and memory.  Nala guides her to a cabin below deck and throws everyone out of the room, setting Tiger on guard outside the door.

 

Those two are scarily efficient.

 

Eventually Zahira asks for Sinbad.  They talk for a long time.

 

Later on, she recovers enough to leave the cabin on shaky legs.  The demon stands to meet her.

 

Zahira looks it in the eyes.

 

“Almas,” she says (“Diamond?” Anwar muses.  “That’s very pretty.”).  “What are you doing in that poor girl?  Get out of her at once.”

 

And Almas the demon, Sinbad’s Father beams with Alehna’s mouth and says, “Anything for you, my love,” and leaves Alehna’s body.

 

There are so many tears after that, Gunnar leaves, slipping above deck.  Cook joins him.

 

* * *

 

 

They find out what happened to Zahira in bits and pieces over the next week.  Gunnar’s not entirely sure he believes all of it.  Perhaps Anwar’s skepticism is rubbing off.

 

 

It seems that once upon a time, Zahira was an acrobat in a Indian travelling circus troupe (yes, really).  During one memorable stop, she met Faruq a handsome young farmer.  Just as the circus was packing up, he got up his nerve to propose and, young and in love, she accepted.

 

They had their first child a year later and named him Jamil.  For a short time, they were very happy. 

 

But there were those in the village who thought poorly of Zahira and her circus background.  They never let Zahira or Faruq forget what she was.

 

Eventually, Faruq could not stand against the rumours and lies.  He began to stay late at the local watering hole, coming home angry and drunk.

 

His mother, Safia, who also lived with them, finally put an end to it when she saw what he was turning into.  Although it broke her heart to do so, she told him to leave and not come back until he became the man she knew he could be.

 

Faruq left and they could no longer afford to keep the farm running.

 

Zahira took Jamil and Safia and moved to the nearby city of Basra, where they rented a small apartment.

 

And Zahira fell in love again, with a handsome and very powerful mage named Almas who was really a djinni in disguise.  They married and soon Zahira was with child again.  This time, the pregnancy was difficult.  Before Zahira could carry him to term, her child died in her womb, and she followed not long after.

 

Almas was inconsolable and hired a ship to sail him to the Land of the Dead, where he found Zahira and their unborn son and fought against Death itself to bring them home again.  Unfortunately, Death was a clever opponent and Almas was trapped in the Land of the Dead as payment for Zahira’s passage.

 

And she did pass safely, only her mind and body did not pass together. 

 

She knew nothing more until years later, when she was awoken by the fully grown son she had never met, only to grieve with him for the death of her first son, Jamil, and the mother of her first husband, Safia, who had cared for her and loved her two grandsons, even though only Jamil had been her blood relation (and even though Safia had encouraged their false impression that she had been well-behaved and proper).

 

 

Sinbad also told her that there was a demon waiting for her outside her room who swore he was Sinbad’s father, and Zahira got out of bed only to find that Almas was hiding in a young woman’s body.  Appalled, she ordered him to find his own and he came back that afternoon in a fine body made by his pupil, Huda, as near as she could remember to the man he’d been before.

 

In the mean time, Zahira had been getting to know Sinbad’s friends on board his ship, the Providence, and, Gunnar could testify, she was not well behaved or proper at all.  She flirted with Cook and patted Gunnar’s bottom.  She cooed over how sweet Rina and Anwar were together, making them blush red and avoid each other for days.  She had a “girls night” with all the women where they locked themselves into a cabin and she told graphic, stories about the things non-humans could do.  The next day, she took Sinbad aside to ask which of them was his girlfriend, and then informed him in great detail how he could prevent unwanted pregnancy and disease while he stared awkwardly at the floor, the ceiling or the door (very hopefully).

 

And through it all, Almas was by her side (well, except for during the girls’ night, although he assured them that he had, in the past, taken female form and liked it) looking on, fondly amused.

 

* * *

 

They’re leaving Basra today.  Nala is staying behind, again, to fight the good fight.  Gunnar will miss her a great deal.  Taryn is staying with her to help, which Nala is thrilled about, Gunnar is sure. Sinbad’s parents are staying as well – Zahira makes the entire crew (Cook included) promise to come visit every time the Providence docks in the harbour,

 

Tiger is coming with the Providence – in fact they’re giving her a lift – she’s tracking down some difficult to find object on some tiny island in the Mediterranean. 

 

The real surprise is Alehna, who, after a week of sneaking in to the House of Wisdom and reading from atop their flying carpets, decides she’s going to come along and talks her mother down from the fit she’s about to throw.

 

Gunnar has spoken with her about Almas, and she says while she was scared at first, he tried to be kind to her.  He was her payment for leaving the Land of the Dead, she explains, and she is very glad he’s no longer there.  She’s been talking to Tiger about it, although it’s a bit uncomfortable for them since Tiger’s unwanted passenger was Taryn.  Taryn and Almas have both since apologized to their hosts.  Now that Almas and Alehna are in separate bodies, he can see that the girlish innocence is hers.  Without the All-Seeing quality Almas possesses, she’s still scarily intelligent, but no longer supernaturally threatening.  The solemnity belongs to both – they fit together as well as any two people in one head could, he supposes.

 

Anwar comes and stands beside him, sending his thoughts reeling in a completely different direction.

 

"Why don't you just tell her?" Gunnar says.  He must be deeply self-pitying to bring this up at all.

 

"I.. what?" Anwar sputters.

 

He jerks his chin in Rina's direction. "If you don't tell her, you'll lose her. No one waits forever."  He watches Nala saying goodbye to Sinbad and Tiger.  Or whatever passes for goodbye in Nala’s book.  (Nice to see you again; it was fun; we should do this again sometime – hopefully not too soon.)  She’s stunning today in blue and yellow.  Gunnar will miss that, too.

 

"I... But… Do you really think she wants me?"

 

"It's extremely tedious watching this," Gunnar says, because he takes great pleasure in making fun of Anwar when he bumbles, which is always.  "You are interested.  She is interested.  Ask her to be your woman already."

 

“I… should.  I should ask her!” Anwar gathers his courage.  Minutes later Rina and Anwar are grinning at each other, so he must not have said anything stupid.  He looks away when they start kissing.  Taryn and Alehna are watching Gunnar, smiling slightly.  Gunnar glares and squints off into the distance.

 

Fantastic.  Now there are women who know he’s a romantic match-making soul (and think it’s adorable) and Anwar is the bravest man he knows.

 

Sinbad moves into the space Anwar vacated.  “It appears you have some potential as a matchmaker.”

 

“I was standing over here, minding my own business, doing absolutely nothing,” Gunnar says, firmly.

 

Sinbad’s eyes are soft as he bumps Gunnar’s shoulder and replies, “I’m happy for them.”

 

Sinbad’s mother is a little less restrained.  They can hear her quite clearly.

 

“Your mother is—“ Gunnar says.

 

“Don’t say it,” Sinbad tenses for a fight.  He’s used to an entirely different kind of ribbing where his mother is concerned and hasn’t yet figured out how to deal with the change.

 

Gunnar smiles warily.  “I was going to say she is a troublemaker.  It is something you have in common.”

 

Sinbad smiles back tentatively.

 

And all of a sudden, Gunnar knows that there’s no way he would ever be completely happy living with Lara knowing that this man, this crew, this ship was sailing the seas without him.

 

“They’re not leaving you, you know,” Gunnar says impulsively, reminding himself as well.  “We’re all your family now.  You may have been the one to bring us together, but—“

 

“Maybe your memory isn’t so good.  I’m pretty sure that was coincidence, a freak storm and some very scary sea creatures.”

 

“You know what I mean,” Gunnar tsks.  “We all would have parted ways as soon as we hit dry land if you hadn’t been there.”

 

“Maybe that would have been better.  What if I turn out like--?”

 

“You won’t.  You aren’t Almas.  You aren’t like Taryn or Akbari either.  I’ve never once see you be cruel to anyone standing in your way.  Besides, they were all alone.  You’re not.  I, for one, am more than willing to tell you when you’re being an idiot.  Now, for instance.”

 

“Thank you, Gunnar,” Sinbad says wryly.  “I have missed you.”

 

“You’re welcome, Sinbad.  I missed you too.”

 

“Everyone’s aboard.  I’m casting off.”

 

Gunnar takes the helm. 

 

The wind is calm.  The sun is warm.  There’s food in the galley, the sails are full.  It’s going to be a nice day.

 


End file.
